“The Emperor is a powerful leader who demands authority and dominance. ”
Henri Olivier is thirty-three years old and is a passenger aboard The Sapphire. He is an asshole. Henri is represented by the Emperor Tarot card.
Trigger Warning: Suicide, Mental Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Stalking, Implied Sexual Assault, Kidnapping
His name is Henri Sébastien Olivier, one of two survivors of a murderous rampage that took the lives of thirty four others. Technically, thirty-seven, if you’re including Henri’s younger sister, her husband, and the police officer who all died from his actions. Henri had always been able to keep a lid on his extracurricular activities, the hookers, the cocaine, the gambling…It was all another side of him, that might as well not exist on the same plain as the scholarly Professor Henri Olivier. Henri knew better than to piss where he slept. He kept his private life far from his public one. Still, over the years became hard to separate himself: the charismatic French professor and the volatile women-abuser. When the last semester began, Henri had already been a changed man. He was too shameless. Too audacious. He’d eyed the young female students hungrily, searching for one that would suit his tastes. But–they were all so wrong. Too loud. Too obnoxious. Too opinionated. Then he began to notice Elisabeth Fehr.
It was only the second week of school when he started to have an interest in her. She was so different from the other girls, those nasty, talkative, obnoxious girls that reminded Henri of the nasty, talkative, obnoxious women in his life. Elisabeth kept to herself. She was small, and quiet, and innocent, and p u re . Thoughts of Elisabeth began to consume him in his everyday life, and as the semester began to draw to an end Henri became more and more desperate. She would leave him, and never look back. He had to stop that–had to make her see that they were meant to be together. So he developed a plan. The idea came to him two months before the annual class trip, but he’d pushed it away initially. He’d hurt people before–ex’s, friends, hookers, family. But he’d never killed anyone. And this plan would require death.
It was a Friday afternoon, wet and dreary with the rain pounding outside of the classroom. He hadn’t even taught her class that day, hadn’t expected to see her on campus. The sight of her, Elisabeth, out in the rain cold and helpless, freezing and….virtuous. Henri knew, in that moment, that he would do anything for her. He would do anything to have her. Henri enlisted the help of a few deplorable friends, having them kill his younger sister and her husband so that once Esme was eliminated Henri would finally own the estate and the fortune. His plans were to flee the country with Elisabeth. Start a new life somewhere, together. They could do anything–be anyone. He would give that to her, and so much more. But he needed her broken. Isolated. Defeated. It was the only true way to ensure that she stayed. Simply running away with her would never have worked. She would have fought, inquires would be made by both the her family and the faculty. But if they quietly slipped away, under the ruse of taking time to recover from this terrible tragedy? No one would realize, until they were long gone. Until he’d already sunk his claws deep into her.
And it had all worked. The past year had been spent in pure bliss for Henri Olivier. He’d gotten Elisabeth a small cottage in Marseilles. They spent their time together, lazily wasting the first few months until the investigation died down and Henri could inherit his family’s money. Of course they had to return Elisabeth to her parents, if only to show that she was well. That she was happy. Henri sat at the dinner table, joking with her father about politics and complimenting her mother on their beautiful dishware. Elisabeth had sat quietly, acting as a decoration in their scene; a beautiful piece of arm-candy for Henri, and a obedient young daughter for the elder Fehrs. They’d been so polite, so happy to see their daughter with such a charming and loyal man–Henri hadn’t needed to ask for their blessing, it was given freely. Elisabeth had been painfully quiet in the months that followed, but Henri had assumed she would grow out of whatever it was.
He’d taken a trip back to Paris to deal with several affairs, and returned home to find Elisabeth unconscious with a stomach full of pills. As she lay unconscious in the ER, Henri had felt a burst of anger at the thought of her leaving him. Had she not understood everything he’d done for her? He’d nearly died, and after-all this time, she was still so eager to leave him? He’d punched a mirror in the men’s room, but in his rage had found a solution. By the time she awoke, he was at her side. His own bandaged and bloody right hand, softly stroking her newly-ringed left hand. Marriage was something Henri had thought of for quite a while, and ever since their visit to Elisabeth’s parents it was obvious they were reaching that point. He’d wanted to give her some magical proposal, but her outburst had caused him to reject that privilege in lo of something easier. His fantasies always went smoother when she was unconscious, or unaware, of them.
She just needed more time–more grandiose gestures of his love, to realize that it was real. That they were meant to be together. Henri had already killed nearly 40 people so they could be together, and if it took a few more bodies to keep it that way he was more than willing. They would celebrate their engagement, a small cruise, a change of scenery. Elisabeth would come around. She would warm up. Elisabeth cared for him, it was just that she was afraid of how intense their love was. That was understandable, he told himself. She would love him freely one day. They’d return to their cottage, get married, live in bliss. Maybe in a year or two Elisabeth will have warmed to the idea of having children. Henri could go either way on the issue, but perhaps it would give her something to occupy herself with? Something to keep her going on the bad days? He has no idea what’s going on in her head–and if he did, his life would surely be as intolerable as her own.
+ intellectual, adaptable, determined
- overbearing, impatient, volatile
Back in their small bay-side cottage in Marseilles, Henri keeps a office in the back of the house that remains locked at all times. It contains the only secrets that Henri keeps from Elisabeth, clippings from the Paris massacre and several other sensitive items. The walls of the room are plastered in photographs of Elisabeth, and most of them have been taken without her even being aware.
While Henri keeps his word in giving Elisabeth the right to visit the market or walk around town without him breathing down her neck, he’s too fearful not to keep an eye on her. He’s hired someone to tail her whenever she goes out on her own, capturing the photos that Henri puts on his office walls, and to ensure that she doesn’t try to contact anyone or leave him.
Henri sleeps like an infant, but he’s well-aware that Elisabeth rarely does anything more than lay idly at his side during the night. She looks worn and nearly ill, so recently Henri has taken it upon himself to put sleeping pills into her tea at times. He can’t have his fiance looking so beaten down, after-all.
Since they’ve moved into their home, Henri has picked up a job at the Aix Marseille University, now working as a career counselor rather than any sort of professor. The job is more so to give him something to do, and keep him out of the house for a bit, than anything else. He likes living on a schedule, having something to do each day.
Elisabeth Fehr - captive
Estelle Larsson - ex hook-up
Richard Moran - detective after him
Henri Olivier is portrayed by Jamie Dornan and is taken.
